Late O' Clock
by Kyrii
Summary: Squell Leonblart battles the mighty MULTIMEDIA. He does other things too. A culmination of lack of sleep, FFVIII and auto spell-check.


Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor do I claim rights to the mock ups of the characters I am using. This is purely for laughs please don't sue me, I'm just a humble person who likes Final Fantasy VIII. Oh, I also don't own K-mart, Kellogs, Alladin, Disney, Frosted Flakes, McDonalds, and last but not least, despite popular belief, Squall (Squell) is not my slave. OK read on, enjoy my first post. There will be more from me, may not be in the humor genre, but it will come. Please be kind to my first post, it's a product of many three o' clock in the mornings when I had nothing better to do. And now for your amusement:  
  
Late O' Clock  
  
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Silently, stealthily, Squell Leonblart, trekked through the dangerous honky tonk pinball machine esq. mansion, looking for the dreaded, Multimedia. She was very sought after, for her dreaded assassination of the cheese puffs on your bureau, and was wanted in at least 1/8 of a country. Brave Squell Leonblart took out his Gun Parade, which conveniently disappeared into his pants at his command, Ferris wheel and all. Squell took out his expensive pocket calculator, and carefully calibrated the distance between him and the nearest McDonalds. After getting a bite to eat he realized that his shoes were quite large, so he ate them. Quite full Squell walked out of the McDonald's to encounter his good friend, Bell Wincht. "Why Bell, it seems that the pimple on your face has grown since I last saw it, can we name it now?" "Fine, any suggestions" Bell said with a heavy Russian accent "How about Postulio, and he can hypnotize people and we can achieve our secret goal of world domination!" "That would be a good idea except you already ate your shoes, I just can't accept such a plan on such harsh terms. Hey, weren't you trying to defeat Sorceress Multimedia?" "Naah, she just wanted a hotdog, so I gave her my shoes" "But but, you ate your shoes" "Quick duck government official!" A large duck in a bodyguard suit soars passed.  
  
***The next morning***  
  
Squell woke up to the cheerful sound of his car being stolen and blown up by Sellme. She enjoyed the destruction of things, people don't know why, so they throw an occasional salad and she usually stays to her own refrigerator box, despite the occasional car theft. Squell waved it away and went about his morning routine of brushing his teeth, eating some breakfast, and eating his shoes. Squell has a lot of shoes. Of course as he walked out the door he was always met by the tedious task of deciphering a foreign language. For Squell's landlady, Quintos Teepee, didn't speak much English, in fact, none at all. "Morning Qui!" "Hey there sugar honey, wanna go see how foreign I can be?" She purred seductively. "THE, POST, OFFICE, IS, DOWN, THE, STREET," Squell said with over- exaggerated hand gestures "DO, YOU, UN-DER-STAND, ME?" Quintos jumped up and down in frustration. "YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! FUCK ME!!" "I'm sorry if the squirrels haven't been helping Qui, they try their best, try not to chastise them" He said walking away nibbling on a yet another pair of shoes. As he walked to his job at the local shoe factory he passed by the village idiot. Well, there are a lot of village idiots, this one just happened to be wielding a large shotgun. Very often. So they give him the benefit of the doubt and he gets to be village idiot. Today Large-Vine KinAss was aiming his double barrel at a passing bunny. "I know you got the goods, now just hand 'em over!" "I didn't do nothing KinAss, besides I gots family ya knows? They needed it!" The rabbit retorted "Yeah, yeah tell it to my ass" Squell looked back to see the rabbit striking up a conversation with KinAss's ass. Of course we can't forget Squell's friendly neighbor's Fooljin and Ridejin. It was rumored they marketed a secret brand of vodka but they were mostly cheery folk. "CAR!" "Calm down ya know, the ve-hicle can't defend itself!" Ridejin defended "RAGE!" "Mommy" Squell looks back to see the large mushroom cloud forming over their house. "What friendly neighbors I have." Squell commented cheerily Squell kept walking until he ran into his good friend Riona Blatantly. "Hey Riona! How business?" "Ah the usual, been getting guys with mullets lately though, strange these fads. Ya know, you still have that get one for free coupon I gave you for Christmas, and there's a corner over there." "Nah I got to get to work, thanks anyway though!" Squell skipped away singing, 'pick me up love, everyday' and hugged the nearest person who immediately fell to the ground writhing and had a seizure. Before he got to the shoe factory he spotted two men, apparently, Sephiroth and one Wiper Almasy. They were apparently fighting over who had the sharpest, um, thing, (Sword). Squell walked over. "Please boys, don't fight" and he handed a pair of shoes to Sephiroth and walked away. They both stared after him until Sephiroth started, "My shoes are pointier." Squell looks back on his town and sighs happily. Just then Multimedia jumps down from the top of a near by ice cream truck and takes Squell away to be her man whore. Apparently some disgruntlement about the shoe size or something. And everyone lived happily ever after, except Squell, because he couldn't have his morning shoes, other than that he was fine.  
  
Anyway, a couple days later, it was rumored that Squell went into the righteous market of 'whips for alternative purposes.' I wonder why.  
  
***Later that night***  
  
Squell sat at his desk, the newly appointed manager of, 'whips for alternative purposes.' His job basically consisted of picking up phones, and then hanging them up. The company really didn't see the need to actually answer the phones, but they did deem it necessary to appoint someone to stop the incessant ringing. What more would you expect from a company that manufactures and sells 'whips for alternative purposes'? "Business as usual" Squell sighed as he hung up another phone around closing hours. "Time to pack up" Squell jumped from his chair and exited is cramped cubicle. He passed his neighboring cubicle, which housed the angry fire-breathing demon, Yourfeet. He deals with public relations, he's damn good at it too, no complaints ever, no compliments either though, just piles of ashes here and there. He passed the janitor, your average hillbilly red-neck. Nice guy, couldn't mop a floor to feed his dog, name's Laguana, apparently. He occasionally runs around with a machine-gun, but, usually no harm done. It's rumored his pixel quality was cut, budget deficit in the game. I mean, game? What game? What are you talking about you moron! You stupid, stupid, thing! How could you even imply a "game?" Frickin' weirdo! How dare you test my authority, sit your ass down and listen to my amazing..skillz.yah. Anyway, kinda drifted off there, let's resume.  
Squell walked calmly down the street humming his favorite tune as the sun sunk below the horizon. As Squell neared his little town he decided to *YAWN*, whoops sorry, I got distracted, let's try that again. He decided to, fuck. his lawn? No, that's not right, not what was I searching for, where is my muse! *Author snaps fingers, changing Squell's situation, like the Genie in Aladdin.* Fuck a.lawn, horse, pig, telephone pole, traffic cone.oww, computer screen, K-mart. That was it! He sat down and enjoyed his K-mart, I mean fucked his K-mart, I mean ate his K-mart, I mean his Kellogg's, I mean his frosted flakes. Now, we're into Frosted-Flakes, but is he eating them or fucking them? Or is he eating them while fucking them. Of course, then that brings up the question of, was he forced, or did he do it purposefully, or was he bribed? In the case of bribe, which more often than not involved cookies, how many cookies did it take? One potato, two potato, three potato, floor. ***NOTE from the ever elusive note demon*** The author has currently, passed out, fallen asleep, or.damnit I'm out of options, one of those two. Thank you come again. *Meanwhile Squell is still in the awkward fucking/eating a bowl of frosted flakes under forced cookie bribery in a K-mart, which he also in turn fucked, and ate.* "Umm, 'scuse me, author lady, my frosted flakes are getting soggy, may I have some more?" Squell inquired. Later my slave, I mean.what?  
  
Okey, Author's tired, 'night. ~Kyrii 


End file.
